WHITE
by The Dish
Summary: Jim Hawkins, an ex-treasure hunter and current defense lawyer, writes of his newest adventure of being swept into the whirlwind that is Snow WHITE, a recently divorced and bumblingly antagonistic party girl living in a realm that mixes the magical and quaint qualities of their native stories with the buzzing and electrifying conveniences (and inconveniences) of the modern world.
1. Chapter 1

WHITE-CHAPTER 1

The brown-eyed beauty sitting with her ankles crossed and her left arm handcuffed to her chair stared at him coolly as she drew a cigarette up to her mouth with her free hand. Her fingernails were long and unpainted, though I could easily imagine them stained a deep and bloody red –much the color of her husband's face when the man had run stumbling up to a police car three nights ago. I cleared my throat.

"He had it coming." The woman said. The casual tone of her voice suggested a callousness with which I had become well acquainted over the years as a defense attorney, but a tug of her lower lip hinted that she really was no so. She took another long pull at her cigarette, and her mouth puckered out like a plump cherry as she blew out the smoke.

"I would not venture to say I don't believe you." I replied carefully, shuffling through my notes. "On the bright side, your husband did not require hospitalization, and with the testimony of your mutual acquaintances, I am pretty sure I can get you off rather light."

The woman shrugged and looked down at the dirty floor where she rubbed out a scuff mark with the toe of her shoe. Presently, she glanced back up at my face. "Guess I should expect no less of a pirate. Of course you are confident in my trial; it's your way. I was the one who did the crime, but my victim is the one who is going to look like a terrible person when this whole thing plays out."

"You think I will have such an easy time getting you off the hook?" I leaned back in my chair, scrutinizing her torn expression.

She may have grimaced, but on her face it seemed more like a mild albeit humorless smirk. "Look at your work, Mr. Hawkins. When John Silver, the most dreaded pirate in the land, came to trial, you made him look like snuggly teddy bear –more of a wandering homeless puppy than a thieving murderous scoundrel."

I shrugged, wincing at the memory and with it the pain surrounding my old companion who, fearing prison, off-ed himself with a stolen laser cannon before he could hear the outcome of the month-long trial. "Well, in his heart, that's who he really was."

The woman in front of me rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and I'm just an innocent girl with the mindset of an easily influenced fourteen year old, overwhelmed and encumbered by unrealistic titles such as 'fairest of them all' and 'true love.'"

"It's true." I said before I could stop myself. Who was I to be declaring what I thought I saw in the heart of this person? I knew I had struck a sour chord as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

The impatience on her face was evident now. "What do you know of 'true' anything, Jim Hawkins? You, who are known to have gone gallivanting with pirates on the petty hunt for gold and treasure, next to me, a freaking princess who, by everyone who speaks to her, seems to hold the very key to love and a remotely happy ever after?" she crammed the butt of her cigarette into an ash tray, ruthlessly grinding its remnants into ashes. "Let me tell you something really special, okay? The only truth in this realm is that there IS no 'true' anything! No true love, no true adventure, no true friends… None! Nada! Never was, never is, never will be!"

I waited with what patience I had for her to catch her breath, but I felt my fingers twitching against my leg. I was eager to leave this place. Ruffians and thugs I could handle with a calm dignity, but a scorned woman was un-tread and dangerous territory. I slid my written notes into a folder to be typed up later. Grabbing my briefcase, I nodded cordially to her. "I will see you in the courtroom tomorrow, Mrs. Charming."

Anger or unshed tears flashed into her eyes, and she closed them tightly. "The name is White. Snow WHITE."

"Very well, Miss White." I amended quickly, and I walked out the door, leaving the princess to her demons.


	2. Chapter 2

WHITE-CHAPTER 2

We had been unquestionably on-target in our prediction of the outcome of the trial. Snow, even though I knew she was battling an internal war between her anger and her gentle nature, was both fair and accurate in her description of her troubled life married to Prince Leonard Herman Charming. The disintegration of the love between this iconic couple was shocking at best, and it took over an hour for the jury to shake itself from the daze of disbelief that hovered over the place like a thick fog. However, as the testimonies of the other castle residents supported Snow's grim recollection, the atmosphere which had been stagnant with motionless stupor became charged with a zealous indignation. How dare this man treat their realm's sweetest princess in this manner? Charming's agitation only worsened the view on his character, leaving the rest of us to wonder whether his chivalry and kindness was somewhat overplayed in his story. When the jury conjured up a guilty verdict upon Snow, it was not without mercy, and the judge gave her an easy sentence of a certain number of hours of community service with the promise to check in with her parole officer once a week.

I sat across from her now in the back of a sleek, black limousine –none of those paddy wagons or taxis for royalty! Watching the way she stared glumly out the tinted window to her left, I felt pity rise in my chest. Gone was the she-cat from the jail cell; before me sat a heartbroken young lady who had found herself over her head in the royal responsibilities of a princess after having been raised for the entirety of her life as a maid. She was not the only princess with this background, but still… at least the other had a husband who helped her through those hardships instead of abandoning her to blunder through her duties blindly and neglected.

Our vehicle passed through wrought-iron gate headed with the title "Butterfly Manor." Most of me thought the name was redundant and… well… come on –Butterfly Manor? You must see my point. Maybe it's a guy thing. In any case, while I was somewhat put off by the decorative name and the mosaic gardens on the surrounding hills, I felt confident that in comely modern mansion that had been erected in the center of the mess my client would find peace.

The limousine came to a stop in the circular drive in front of the entrance to the house, and after exiting the vehicle myself, I offered my hand to escort the lady to the door. Right before her fingers could touch mine, however, I was shoved aside nearly to the point of falling backwards and landing on my ass. Oops, pardon the language –ex-pirate/treasure hunter, you know. Disgruntled by the poor conduct, I regained my balance and glared in the direction of the intruder, ready to speak my mind when I stopped abruptly. Nobody was… I looked down. A young, lanky boy wearing baggy pants and an un-tucked shirt (no shoes to speak of) had pressed a baggage cart against the side of the car and was eagerly relieving the princess of her purse and loose belongings.

A tall and graceful woman appeared from behind me. "Mogli, the luggage you are supposed to be getting is in the trunk. Remember, good intentions are always remarkable, but courtesy is to be given above all."

"Wadd'ya mean?" the boy asked, shoving his mass of uncombed hair out of his eyes.

"In this case…" the genteel woman said, and I recognized her at once as Her Royal Highness Cinderella Charming, "you should make room for the guest to get out of her car before you load your cart."

As Mogli obediently took his cart away, Snow slid off her seat herself, and Cinderella clasped her hands together in chagrin. "Please forgive Mogli. He has been making extraordinary progress since he came here from the jungle in which he was raised –by wolves no less! He is a very bright boy and eager to please, but he does get over excited."

"I'm sure he meant no harm." Snow assured the Queen, bowing before her as I did. "Besides, I am no guest."

Cinderella grasped Snow's hand familiarly in her own and smiled sadly. "You, my dear sister, are never a mere guest in my home, nor are you such in the manor. Everyone who comes here to The Butterfly is troubled in some fashion, and I will not have you, of all people, heaping undue guilt upon yourself."

Snow's lips trembled, and she stared hard at the ground. "I am surprised that you still call me sister, if I am wholly honest. I already sent the divorce papers to be signed."

"What happened between my husband's brother and you is none of my business except to be there for you if you need me." Cinderella assured her, cajoling her up the front steps and into the house. "Come on inside. I'll have tea sent to us right away."

Sensing that Snow's rehabilitation was already underway, I knew my usefulness and welcome was over. I raised my hand in a half-hearted wave. "Goodbye, then, Snow." I called after them. "Pleasant afternoon, Your Highness."

The women turned belatedly to return the wish, but I was already closing the door to my vehicle and missed what was said. I only saw them through the window wave once and then turn to continue up the steps and into the home. With a sigh, I signaled for the driver to return to the main city. My time with Snow was done, and it was high time for me to return to the apartment I shared with my mother and get back to life.


	3. Chapter 3

WHITE-CHAPTER 3

Cinderella led Snow through a short hall and into a spacious room, the ceiling of which was made of glass. Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor which was inlaid with lapis and gold depicting a very large and intricate flower of some kind, or perhaps the sun. Snow raised her eyes to the rafters and saw that they were a dark, chocolate covered wood and were carved all over with angels of varying sizes. Colorful tapestries and paintings hung on the walls, adding a cheerful comfort to the otherwise dauntingly enormous room.

They walked through another door, and Snow realized Cinderella was still speaking to her. She tried to pay more attention. "Oh…" she said simply when there was a pause, and Cinderella continued unaware of the distraction to which her subject had succumbed.

"After all," Cinderella smiled warmly, "as long as community service is a tool used to teach others empathy and a drive to do what is right, I do not see why it is anything less than imperative that _someone_ create a safe and healing environment for that person to learn it!"

"Mhm." Snow agreed with a nod. Her sister-in-law's point was sound, though snow wished she had not found herself to be in need to being taught a lesson in doing good! Who was she anymore, anyway?

"Of course, not everyone you meet here was given an offer to perform community service in a court. Some girls are in need of counseling for other things, but when it comes right down to it, we all have the basic need to relate to one another, don't we?" Cinderella asked.

Snow shrugged. "I suppose." Honestly, she did not want to dig up her feelings in front of all these people. She had shared enough with the rest of the world as it was. She would perform her duties to the specified amount of hours and get out as quickly as she could.

"Here we are!" Cinderella announced, opening the door to a cozy room with a lit fire place, a few comfy chairs, and a billiards table. Several books were stacked in a bookcase along one wall, and board games were organized into a glass cupboard of sorts. "This is the den. Often, tenants will come to relax in here during their free time. If it pleases you, here is where we will share our tea."

"I don't mind." Snow replied, already settling into a chair. She never had been very athletic, and some would call her downright fragile. Pathetic was more like it, in her opinion. She carefully stretched her legs and made herself comfortable in her seat.

Cinderella pulled on a rope hanging by the door, and after a few moments, a voice answered over an intercom. The Queen ordered their tea with muffins and then sat across from Snow. After their mid-afternoon snack was delivered, she poured the tea and handed a cup and saucer to her guest. "Do you have any questions?"

Snow sipped her tea, and she reached over to the tray to add more sugar. Leonard, her prince, always complained that this habit of hers was keeping her figure rounded and soft, and he would rather she would try and make her body modern and thin like the other princesses. Even when she had cared about what he thought, however, she never could drink her tea without sweeteners, and when her friends and guests added jelly to their biscuits, then how could she deny herself the same? It was something about herself that she could never change and did not want to. If men did not like her soft figure and dimpled elbows, then she had no use for them. Nevertheless, there was that issue about her endurance she had just been lamenting…

"I do. While I am here… what is there to do? Is there a …gym?" Snow asked, portraying her best expression of nonchalance.

Cinderella betrayed a passing look of surprise, but she recovered quickly by taking a bite of her muffin. She swallowed and gestured with her hand. "Actually, Fa Mulan is a certified personal trainer that volunteers here, and I believe Jane Porter is getting her certification as well."

Snow nodded. Apparently anonymity would not be an option in her endeavor to make herself fit, but really, did anonymity exist anyway? She may as well have lived in a fishbowl since the day Leonard carried her into his gleaming white palace on horseback. Back then, she didn't mind sharing their love to the world. After time, though… pretending everything about their lives was happy became tedious. Losing her temper on her husband had earned her realm-wide attention, and now her break-up and heartache was on display as well.

"I hope you will be happy here at Butterfly Manor." Cinderella expressed genuinely. "It is very private here. No media or unauthorized persons are permitted to be here at any time."

Snow nodded again, relieved. Her stay here would be as short as she could possibly make it, but at least it would be private. She finished her tea and set the cup aside, stifling a yawn.

Cinderella set her own dishes aside and rang the bell for service. "I dare say you must be tired after your journey."

"A little." Snow admitted.

"Well, it is time I headed back to the castle before suppertime, but I will have one of the girls come and show you your room." Cinderella said, poking her head out into the hall. "Ah, Rapunzel –just the girl I wanted to see! Come in for a moment, won't you? Are you busy?"

"No, I was just coming in from the store for more paints, Your Highness." Rapunzel assured her, entering the den. She held a paper bag against her side, presumably containing her purchases.

Cinderella touched her shoulder and directed her towards Snow, who got to her feet. "Rapunzel, I would like you to meet my dear sister-in-law and friend, Snow White."

"Oh, hello!" Rapunzel's beaming grin brightened up the room better than any fireplace or lighting fixture. "We have all heard you would be staying here for a while. I am so pleased to finally meet you!"

"We've ALL heard…?" Snow echoed warily as she shook her new acquaintance's hand. She sighed. Just as she had thought –anonymity was nonexistent.

"After you freshen up, I can show you around the manor before supper if you want." Rapunzel offered.

Cinderella clapped involuntarily. "What a perfect idea! I am certain the two of you will get along splendidly. Now, I really must be going. Goodbye, girls! I will see you both along the week."

They bid their Queen and benefactress farewell, and then Rapunzel and Snow made their way into a glass elevator that lifted them to the top floor. Rapunzel chattered away even more than Cinderella ever had, and Snow made no attempt to follow the one-sided conversation that flitted across every subject conjured by a human mind.

At last they opened the door to Snow's quarters, and Rapunzel said in parting, "I will see you before dinner! You'll love it – my friend Tiana volunteers in the kitchen every other weekend when she takes time away from her restaurant, and she is preparing something delicious for tonight! Also, the friends we have put on our visitor cards can come for dinner, and you'll meet my fiancé Eugene. He comes to eat with me almost every evening –when he does not take me out, that is. He is really cool, and I think you'll like him."

"I bet I will." Snow worked up an encouraging manner of voice, but she thought that regardless of her words or tone, Rapunzel would be as ridiculously happy as ever.

"See you later!" With a flip of her short brown hair, she spun down the hallway, leaving Snow to see to her own room.

Although Mogli had already left her belongings at the foot of her bed, Snow made no attempt to tidy up or unpack her things. For just once in her life, she was going to do what she wanted to do, not what she ought to do –and that was collapse on the bed and fall into a deep slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

WHITE-CHAPTER 4

I was unsurprised as usual to find that myself lounging on the sofa in the apartment or hanging around the Benbow inn was about as welcome as a festering sore in the armpit. Mom was as supportive and encouraging as any overworked and under-appreciated single mother could be, especially considering her twenty-five year old son still lived with her with no present indication of moving out. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm kind of a sucker, but what can I say? I've had kind of a rough past, and it was not making it easy to make ties in my present.

I was scum to the upright crowd due to my pirate-ridden treasure-hunting adventures, and I was weak to the pirates and adventurers because I had quit. I had a chance to have a brotherhood in the military when I signed up at the Interstellar Academy, but let's face it –my quick temper plus the superfluous insults of the Drill Sergeants set me right up for a terrible time, and after being discharged before even leaving basic training at age 18, I entered again at age 20 and barely made it through. I was a reservist still, but it didn't pay the bills.

Hell, even my second job as an entrepreneur lawyer did not pay the bills. I had the workings of it, but my reputation was shoddy since I was usually defending the crud and arguing with the upright. Despite the fact that I was good at my job, I got little work, and what work I got did not fill up my pockets. Criminals are cheap bastards, and that's the truth.

In fact, the only decently paying gig I had gotten in a long while was Snow White's case. That woman had paid generously, and I had not stopped her or even argued. Call me a cad, but I needed the dough. For all the crap I got on my reputation for being a treasure hunter, it really did not give me much in return. I mean, the whole planet on which the treasure was hidden exploded into a fiery inferno before I could stuff a single coin into my pants! Talk about rotten luck.

On the other hand, my late friend John Silver _had _given me a handful of the treasure he had made away with before he made away with his life before Captain Amelia would undoubtedly have sent him on a direct trip to the gallows. It was enough to rebuild the Benbow inn, which, at the time, was a heaping pile of ash because he and his crew had previously turned _it _into a fiery inferno. Once the inn was rebuilt though, Mom and I had to start again from scratch, and it was an uphill battle. We were cut out for it, though. Ever since my dad… well, we were used to making things work regardless of circumstances.

The Benbow inn was at a stable place now, and I watched it from my seat in a corner booth. Dirty sailors and shady characters still scuffled in from both the seaport and the spaceport, but it was not overrun with them now. A large family checked in at the desk, and I overheard them asking loudly about renting several rooms for a family reunion and whether they could bring in their own alcohol. A honeymooning couple was nestled into a booth across the aisle from me, sharing a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. Our patrons had tight budgets, but the Benbow suited their needs just fine as they suited ours.

Esmeralda, one of Benbow's only three hired help, served a table of noisy men another round of shots then sidled over to me. She did not inquire my order –I was expected to get anything I wanted myself. She did, however, lean her curvy hip against the table and touch my arm with her red fingernails. "My shift ends in ten minutes. Are you coming tonight?"

I steepled my fingers and thought about it for a moment. It wasn't like I did not occasionally enjoy a night out on the town –even when that meant ducking slugs in a rambunctious nightclub full of brawlers and drunkards. In fact, I usually was the first to get involved in any kind of fistfight I could conjure out of my fellow bar mates as soon as I had imbibed enough rum. I was never kicked out since I never forgot to pay my tab. Thrown out on my ass by the winners of some of those fights… yeah, that happened sometimes. Those slobs were always the ones slathering on the most butter when it became apparent I was the only one around willing to represent them in court.

"Well?" Esmeralda raised her eyebrow, impatient as was her nature. She began to ease her weight off the table and pick up her tray.

I rubbed the back of my neck and shrugged. "I guess."

"Alright." She said, back to work now as if she had never given me the invitation. "See you in a few minutes out back."

I caught my mom's glance where she hunched over the accounting books behind the counter. She sighed dejectedly, and I looked elsewhere. She never had approved of my extracurricular exploits. As a teenager, it was air-surfing, which she considered dangerous. Then of course she was out of her mind with anxiety over my trip across the galaxy in search of Treasure Planet. Now as an adult… well, what was a single entrepreneurial mom in this day and age supposed to think of the hoards of women I went through in a month? Guilt pricked the back of my head, and I rubbed at it feebly. It was not like I held contempt for women… I just held contempt for everybody, I guess. Everyone, that is, except my ever disapproving mom. She was too good to be true, and too good for me.

I stood up from my booth and carried my dishes into the back where I washed them and put them away. It was a habit I had formed in my youth when I was working alone here with my mother, and I did not drop it now even though some other kid now slaved over the sink –this time for pay. He thought I was considerate, but honestly, I just did not like anybody doting on me, especially some punk kid who wore his socks up to his knees.

Esmeralda was waiting in the back just as she had said, wearing a revealing red dress in place of her work clothes. A daring slit up the side revealed some of the dark skin of her aforementioned hip, and her shameless cleavage threatened to spill out of the top. I stopped myself before I offered her my arm the way my mother had taught me –Esmeralda would merely laugh and trot to the club alone in those strappy black heels she wore.

I grunted, and we made our way down the dirt road away from the inn. The night was warm and brightly lit under a full moon, but I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets anyway as Esmeralda grumbled on about how her ex was not paying adequate child support, that the club which was our destination had not found her missing gold earring, and that her shoes were making her feet hurt. We arrived at last, and I held open the door –something at which she scoffed and took quick advantage.

As per batum, I ordered a rum-in-coke to start the night, and she bought herself Herself (let me explain –she frequented the place, and they named a drink 'The Esmeralda' in honor of the one she had invented and ordered every time she was here. I am a little unsure of the exact contents, but it involved a lot of vodka, some tequila, a variety of heavy liquors, and I think even some dry wine. It was served in a Margarita glass and garnished with strawberries, tomatoes and olives, and not a drop of anything nonalcoholic ever touched it. I can handle my alcohol, but I have NEVER been remotely interested in testing my limit on one of those. I think it may be deadly…). She chugged down half of her drink as I drained mine, and before I knew it she had tugged me to the dance floor. I could not make out any distinct music, but a bass rhythmic thrumming pounding in the walls and floor was enough of a guide to the people who grinded and convulsed in the center of the room.

The feel of my dance partner's lithe body wiggling against mine was electrifying, and my hands explored freely. I could feel my mind numbing to everything else, and the burden of my strenuous life fell silent at least for a while. I think I began to relax. Even if I didn't, it was better to be here than moping at home.

"I'm gonna GO finishhh my DRINK!" Esmeralda slurred, throwing her hands in the air like she had scored a soccer goal. I followed her back to the bar, and she brought her glass to her lips and closed her eyes, savoring the buzz as if it was its own flavor.

I had a shot of rum without the coke, and I took my time drinking it. As the last of it slid down my throat, an apple rolled across the counter before the bar tender retrieved it and chopped it up for a martini. The innocent object had grabbed my attention, however, and thrusted it in the direction of my most recent client. I wondered if she would end up using booze to drown her very public shame the way I had mine.

"Another one, please." I asked of the man behind the bar, and it was given to me without comment. I sipped it a little faster this time, prodding my mind to wander elsewhere; like to Esmeralda's supple breasts. Now there was a pair of playthings just screaming to be released from their chokehold of that tight dress, so much different from…

An image of Snow White's much gentler curves and the slight swells underneath her shirt came to mind, and I shook my head to rid myself of the thought. "One more." I demanded, and another shot was placed wordlessly in front of me. I gulped it down.

Esmeralda was licking the strawberry clean after having dropped it into her glass, holding the red fruit above her head with her ruby nails. _Funny… _I thought, _how such long nails can be found on all different types of women… partiers like Esmeralda, for example, and also on such a slight, tender thing like… _

"Another." I begged of the bar tender, and he gave me the shot with a slow hand. I snatched it from him and sucked it down.

I was breathing heavily, almost panting, but the picture of that fair beauty would not leave my head. What was WRONG with me? Surely I was losing my mind. Maybe another shot… a disapproving grimace from the guy manning the bar slowed me, and I nodded in hesitant agreement. No, no, the drinking was probably the entire problem. I just needed to slow down on the rum. I needed a better distraction…

Esmeralda flung her glass to the side and got up from her stool, readjusting her dress to the point that I honestly thought she might pop right out of it. She was bobbing her head to the beat and looked about ready to rejoin the dancers, but I had other ideas. It was a simple matter of maneuvering as I kissed her greedily on the face and neck and led her towards the back of the place. I'm not sure which restroom we ended up in, but we made use of the place for quite a while.

By the time we reemerged, her dress was all kinds of discombobulated, and our faces were flushed. Not a single thought of what had tormented me before remained. We danced for a little while more, but I was beginning to fantasize about my bed and pillow. I offered to walk Esmeralda home, but she declined as usual, and I took off alone, leaving her to dance and tease to her heart's content. Some other guy would see her to her place, more or less safely but at least invited.

I made it back up the dirt road and stumbled into the inn, catching myself on the doorframe. I looked sheepishly around the room, wondering if my mother was still up, and stopped right it my tracks.

A cluster of rowdy thugs surrounded the counter, and standing on top of it next to the cash register, a man dominated the attention of his cohorts and the unfortunate patrons still in the restaurant portion of the inn. His gravelly voice rolled out over the room, and the men and women around him gestured wildly in assent, but this, while alarming, was not what sent such a shock through my heart that my blood ran cold.

Standing bravely on her own two feet although she was clutched tightly against the leader's chest with a gun pressed against her head, was my mother.


	5. Chapter 5

WHITE-CHAPTER 5

Ice ran cold through my veins. Time stopped as the breath left my body. As if the scene was frozen before my eyes, I saw in a moment that the room had been split into two halves, one side inhabited by stunned or cowering customers and the other occupied by a rowdy group of thugs. Two men lay still on the floor on the side of the hostages. I could tell by the clothes they wore that they were sailors freshly stepped off from the spaceport. No one knelt by them, but there was no need; both were certainly dead. These intruders meant business, which did not bode well for my mother against whose temple was pressed a threatening laser pistol.

The man who held her, wearing a bright crimson overcoat and a cocky hat, was undeniably the leader of the bunch, and my gut clenched. I could smell a pirate a mile away, and this man certainly was one. Sweat broke out on my upper lip, and my fingers inched towards my belt.

The door clicked shut behind me.

_Bang! _

I dropped to the floor as a gunshot rang over my shoulder, and my own gun appeared in my hands as I quickly returned fire. The man who had first shot at me toppled to the floor as my bullet lodged itself in his head, and I wounded two others before their captain's shouts quieted the mayhem.

"Stop it! Hold your fire, hold your fire!" the large man snarled gutturally. "That's Hawkins, you imbeciles!"

My own finger eased off the trigger as the pirates lowered their weapons, but I kept my hand ready in case there was some sort of trick. I glared at the red-coated man on the counter. At such a high pedestal, I could pick him off easily with my sure aim, but for all of his fancy talk and big-guy rubbish, he cowardly positioned my mother stiffly in front of him. Anger simmered in my bowels and my bullets sang for the lust of his blood.

"Jim, don't." my mom warned me, knowing my temper and my habits well enough to tell when I was silently gauging the chances of hitting him without harming his shield.

I slowly lowered my arm and pushed myself off the floor and onto my feet, still refusing to put away my pistol. It was well enough –the pirates did not return their weapons to their holsters either. The man in red opened his mouth widely to speak, but I interrupted him, thus hopefully gaining a semblance of control over the situation. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

The man's grin flashed wickedly, and, still keeping one arm wrapped snugly around her shoulders, stroked my mother's cheek with a gleaming hook that replaced his hand. Recognition dawned dimly in the recesses of my mind, and he replied, "I, sir, am the great Captain _Jas Bartholomew Hook! _With me cutthroat crew, I have tormented the seven seas! Surely you have heard of me in your travels." His wiry mustache twitched underneath his large hooked nose.

I forced my body to relax and crossed my arms. "I have not traveled much on the water, myself. I generally do space sailing."

Hook grimaced disapprovingly. "I hardly call that true sailing." He scoffed.

"To each his own." I bantered, tapping my gun impatiently against my bent elbow. "Now to business. What do you want with me?"

Hook twisted his laser pistol against his captive's head, tangling her hair around the barrel and making her wince. He ground his teeth menacingly and declared, "You are going to help me, Jim Hawkins, or you can say goodbye to your dear ol' mummy!"

A concurring chorus of "yeah, bye-bye mummy" and "aye-aye" was drowned out by a ringing in my ears. I pointed my gun and the chatter died down. Every gun and eye in the room was trained on me when I said, "I am an excellent shot," I explained slowly, "so I can guarantee you that I can put you in the ground while my mother remains unharmed."

"I've already considered that, _boy_." Hook sneered with a wrinkle of his nose. "Mr. Smee, if you please…"

An ugly, pudgy man with patchy white hair withdrew a small cylinder from a pouch around his waist. Hook made no move to grab it from his outstretched hand. Had he, I would have reacted sooner… Before I could make a move, Smee jammed the rod into my mother's shoulder, and she cried out in pain.

Immediately I fired off a shot, but the surprise of Smee's actions while I had the muzzle trained on his captain threw my aim. The bullet knocked the cap off his head, and he tumbled behind the counter to momentary safety. I yanked my arm back in Hook's direction, ready to riddle the filth with holes.

"Wait a moment!" Hook shouted in smug authority. "If you shoot me, your mother dies."

I grimly considered the scurvy crew who once again shifted their weapons between their hands uneasily, unsure whether they were supposed to fire at me or allow me to pick them off one by one. Once I killed their leader, it would be no consequence to them to murder both my mother and me since it was clear that it was by Hook's fancy alone that my heart kept beating. I squinted at the group as I tried to find a way around my present circumstance.

"Oh, you needn't so much worry about _them_." Hook snickered, shoving my mother away from his chest. She tripped and fell forward off the counter, landing on all fours. Brushing off her skirt, she resolutely held her chin high and took my extended hand to join me by the door. Hook gestured at us with his namesake and held up the odd cylinder Smee handed to him from behind the counter. "I implanted in her back a very special kind of device. I have a similar one in mine."

Mom hesitantly reached her hand over her shoulder and tenderly rubbed the spot which still bled. A small lump stretched the skin next to the wound, supposedly Hook's mysterious device. He lifted a lock of his curly black hair and revealed a similar bulge above his shoulder blade.

"What is it?" I demanded, waving my gun erratically now. Shoot? Don't shoot? What was this new turn of events?

Hook smirked triumphantly and strode towards me. "It's a little something I swiped from one of your fellow 'space pirates.' He called it a… ah… he called it, um… what did he say it was, Mr. Smee?"

"A tri-peregrinating ventricular fibrillation device, Cap'n." Smee replied confidently.

"Ah, yes. A tri- that sort of thing." He waved his hook inconsequentially and continued to pace as he explained, "In short, if I die, she dies and vice versa."

I gritted my teeth and holstered my gun. "Fine. You have my attention. What do you want?"

"You love your little mummy very dearly, do you not, boy?" Hook waited for me to answer.

"Get on with it." I crossed my arms, refusing to show any weakness. Mom wrapped her arms around the crook of my elbow, showing her quiet support she has always had for me. Even at my age, it felt silly, but I did not brush her off.

"Well, it might interest you to know that her days became numbered the moment I had that thing implanted under her skin." Hook said dramatically. "For I, Captain James Bartholomew Hook, have been marked for death –and now she is too."

"What keeps me from taking it out myself?" I asked, drumming my fingers against my arm.

Hook grunted impatiently. "Oh, he doesn't even ask what ails me, no! It's right to 'I think I can still save me mummy!'" He rolled his eyes and sighed. "The tri-pregri… uh, tri-pordu… no…"

"TPVF Device, Cap'n?" Smee suggested.

"Yes, yes, thankee Mr. Smee." Hook cleared his throat. "The TPVF Device has already secreted a water-based fluid into her blood which is filled with thousands of micro-cases of… uh…

"Potassium and chlorine, Cap'n." Smee interjected.

"Yes, which, when combined, will create…"

"Potassium Chloride, Cap'n." Smee ducked as Hook raised his arm threateningly.

"I knew that, you blithering blockhead!" Hook shouted. He turned back to my mother and I. "Now, where was I?"

"So she is dying right now?" My gun was back in my hand and pointed at his heart.

Hook held up a hand. "Now, now, not yet, and shooting me will only end her life all the more quickly than would the poison."

"How does it work?" I asked.

"A sensor on the TPVFD," he glared at Smee, who kept obediently silent, "will recognize the moment it is pulled free from the flesh and will activate the micro-canisters, releasing their contents. The only way to remove the device is with a special neutralizing remote."

"Which you have." I assumed.

"No –that's the problem." Hook frowned and pulled his lips back, showing his large overbite as he spoke, "I did not have this thing put into my neck on my own whim. There are three of them…"

"Which is why it is a tri-peregrinating ventricular fibrillation device, not a bi-peregrinating ventricular fibrillation device." Smee explained.

"Smee." Hook's mustache twitched.

"Shutting up, Cap'n." Smee declared, bringing his hand up to his brow in a pudgy salute.

"What unlucky bastard has the third?" I inquired, ignoring the banter in lieu of more important matters.

"A crocodile." Hook muttered as a shiver shook his spine.

"A crocodile?" I raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Don't be so amused, boy." Hook spat, shaking his hook. "The beast has plagued me across every sea on which I have sailed. It has teeth like sabers, scales like granite, and an infernal ticking that echoes in my skull."

I blinked. "Ticking?"

"Yes, ticking, you cocky numbskulled bungler!" Hook snapped. "The relentless tick and tock of a hell damned clock!"

"Why, Cap'n –you're a poet and you didn't even know it!" Smee chuckled then ducked quickly, saving himself from a star-spangled whack in the head.

"I fed the monstrosity me finest golden watch," Hook continued after a moment, "so that I would always know when the damned thing was sneaking up on me. He has a taste for me blood, thanks to a terrorizing aberration by the name of Peter Pan. The boy cut off me right hand and tossed it to the crocodile many years ago, and since then I have sworn revenge."

I let my arms hang at my sides, but my mother kept her hands in place. I patted her fingers reassuringly and said, "So you are blackmailing me into avenging the loss of your hand?"

"No." Hook exhaled grudgingly. "I can handle me own revenge, thankee very much. The problem is that wretched crocodile. It alone was me greatest obstacle in defeating Pan. I mean to kill it, but now that the… uh… "

"Tri-peregrinating ventricular fibrillation device, Cap'n." Smee said helpfully.

"Now that the TPVFD has been put into both of our necks, I cannot destroy the croc without also killing me-self." Hook grumbled. "Unfortunately, you cannot reason with an animal, especially one as vile and bloodthirsty as he. The idiot crocodile is still intent on eating the rest of me, uncaring of its own life or well being, and to save me-self, I cannot save me-self because saving me-self would kill me-self! Do you see my problem now?"

"How do you expect me to be able to help you?" I asked, grabbing Mom's hand in mine so she would stop fidgeting with my sleeve.

"I need you to find Peter Pan and get from him the location of the neutralization remote. I can then use it on the devices, and all of us would be free of the accursed poison." Hook sniffed and polished his hook on his lapel.

"Why can't you find him?" I asked, thoroughly annoyed. "It never was my problem. Why drag my mother into this?"

"Well, your mother is in this now, so consider it your problem, boy!" Hook shouted, and his eyes turned wild and bloodshot. "Pan has somehow beguiled the beast into doing his bidding. Everywhere I go in search of Peter Pan, the crocodile is readily at me heels. It can smell me, Jim Hawkins. It knows when I am near, and it lies in ruthless wait for me. It has little care for a scrawny thing like you. You can evade the beast and catch Peter Pan. Then you must force him to reveal to you the location of the remote!"

"Where am I going to find this man?" I relented at last. The sooner I got this job over with, the sooner my mother would be safe again.

"I last saw the cretin in a ship leaving Never Land, taken from the ridiculous island to supposedly this very realm." Hook's eyes narrowed into squints. "And Hawkins… your foe is no man."

A vague and misty parade of monsters and dragons paraded behind my eyes, and I raised my chin. "What is this Pan?"

"A boy appearing of an age between eight and fourteen –I do not know; I never have been fond of the things to know their age rate." Hook pondered.

"A child?" I spat, aghast. "You want me to help you get rid of the one obstacle preventing you from _murdering a child?_" My mother stiffened beside me, shocked.

"If you love your dear mummy, you will." Hook growled. "The _child _is a fiendish killer, and I am his next target. In harassment of me, he has already slew many a member of me ship, the Jolly Roger and also has hands red with the blood of the Indian locals with the help of his own motley crew of wild children."

"I am certain that you as well sleep under the guilt of killing your own number of those boys." I spoke with a sour taste in my mouth.

Hook grimaced. "T'is true. I must have killed as many of them as they have of mine, and I hold no remorse in me black heart for it. Most who meet me assume it is I who have been the antagonist in this endless war, but ask any one of my accusers who drew first blood and see if they even know. Before me and my crew became entrapped in the waters of Never Land, I too had reservations towards the slaughter of the young. But in Never Land, a body never ages. Children never grow up, and we adults never grow old."

My mother and I said nothing, so Hook continued, "Imagine a magical island, inhabited by mermaids, fairies, savages, and a group of lost boys without thought or memory of parents and no one to tell them right from wrong. All they know or understand is play without boundary. They would scream, howl, play and fight with each other, running and tumbling around in the jungle like animals. They hunted with homemade weapons as much for the fun of the chase as for the nourishment to their immortal bodies. What do you think would happen to a bunch of raggedy boys who kill animals for fun and food without an adult to teach them the appropriate behavior and protocol with it?"

"You certainly did not step up to the plate." Mom's fingernails dug into my palm.

"Of course not; I'm a pirate –I kill for a living." Hook sneered. "At first my men and I ignored them. We were more concerned with navigating the waters as far as we could travel, trying to find a way to leave the blasted island. When it became apparent that we were trapped, we began to explore onshore. We wanted to find the best hunting grounds, the finest places to eat.

"It was on one of these food-seeking excursions that we ran into the Lost Boys as they called themselves. My men and I had killed a hog trapped in a bush, but as we were cutting the carcass free, the boys came and claimed the pig as theirs because it had been caught in their trap. A heated argument arose, but we were the adults –we were larger and stronger than these pesky pip-squeaks, and one of me crew heaved the hog onto his shoulder and we turned to leave. That's when one of the little scoundrels threw a hatchet into his back.

"Hell broke out then in that clearing. The boys were surprisingly able killers, and we fought to defend ourselves. Three of my men died that day, two of theirs. What they lacked in strength they gained in speed and experience –who knows how many hundreds of years they had been living on that island, always learning but never maturing?

After that we tried to avoid them, but it was nigh impossible. They called us bullies and trespassers if we gathered food on the island, and to spite them we took the best of all we found and stole from their traps regularly. It was on one fateful day that Pan flew onto my ship and cut off me hand that I declared never to rest until he and those Lost Boys were dead."

There was little I could say on the matter of his offense with the Lost Boys. I did not bother mentioning mercy or giving up –I scarcely believed in either of the traits as they had served me ill for most of my years. Besides, I was dealing with a pirate here. Instead, I honed in on one detail that had caught a sliver of my attention. "Did you say Peter Pan _flew_ onto your ship?"

"Aye, he did." Hook nodded menacingly. "The demon can fly, and he hides behind this trick like armor. Between the crocodile and his blasted flying, how does he ever expect me to finally kill him?"

"I suppose he doesn't." I shrugged.

"Precisely. But if I can rid myself of the crocodile, I can find a way around his habit of flight." Hook grinned. "So what say ye?"

"I don't like it." I said stubbornly. "I don't care what he did; that boy is just a kid. I cannot help you."

"Then when that same kid destroys me at last as he is wont to do, your mother dies as well. And let me tell you something about that crocodile –it is not living in Never Land anymore, and it was seasoned and old to begin with. Very wily and tricky with experience all the more now, but also increasingly old… very, very old, and no amount of cunning or wit can save it from natures final calling. With or without your help, that crocodile will die or Pan will slay me, and when that happens, your mummy's life will end too, untimely though it may be."

I was acutely aware of every eye trained on me, from the terrified patrons of the inn to the haughty invading pirates, both those of insidious Captain Hook and of my beloved mother. Once again I found myself in a corner, bound to take up an agreement with pirates against my better judgment. Would the extremity of the situation lend me sympathy from the witnesses, or would my mark of shame stain ever darker, rendering me a true outcast among the folk of this realm?

It didn't matter. I knew what had to be done.

"I'll help you." I relented at last. "I will get the remote and undo the work of the device, but that's it. After that, you are on your own."

Captain Hook grinned wickedly. "That is all I would ever ask of you, my boy."

He extended to me his glistening hook, and I reached out my hand and shook it.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Snow sat politely with her hands in her lap as the rest of the class filed in on either side of her. She had arrived early for the evening counseling session, years of punctuality forming a habit she was not likely to break any time soon. She glanced around at her fellow women, wishing she had dressed a little more casually after all. Her yellow dress was very out of place amongst the t-shirts and jeans everyone else wore.

Belle, the Manor's licensed counselor and life coach, had arranged the chairs into a circle and was now handing out spiral notebooks from a stack she had brought in a bag. Each notebook had a name on the front scrawled in its owner's handwriting. Some of the covers were also doodled on, and others were kept clean and unmarred. When everyone was seated and Belle's stack was depleted, she pulled out a clean one from her bag and handed it to Snow with a marker to print her name. Snow wrote her initials in the top right corner and set it in her lap.

"Welcome, everyone!" Belle smiled, taking her seat next to Snow. "I hope you have had a good couple days since our last meeting."

A general murmur of assent was the reply, and Snow settled herself more comfortably in her seat. Some of the women here she recognized, but others were strangers to her. As she scanned the faces, Rapunzel caught her eye and waved cheerfully from where she sat across the circle. Snow waved warily in return.

Belle put her hand on Snow's shoulder and said, "I am sure some of you met Snow already at dinner, but since some of us may be new to one another, let's just spend this evening introducing ourselves and telling everyone why we are here." She smiled warmly at Snow and pointed at the notebook on her lap. "When we do introductions here, we usually write down everyone's names and write kind things about them in a column underneath. No one but you will see what you write inside your notebook, but I think it is good practice to see the good inside our hearts."

"Okay." Snow whispered, turning her eyes down to her feet.

"Alright," Belle began, "Who would like to go first?"

"Ooh, I would! Pick me!" Rapunzel's hand shot into the air, and her bouncing made her short bobbed hair spring like gelatin. With Belle's permissive nod, she exclaimed, "I am so glad you are here, Snow! You already met me, of course. I'm Rapunzel." She sing-songed, touching her chest. "I am nineteen years old, and I love flowers! My favorite pastime is to paint, and I want to open my own studio. Let's see… um… I am here because I grew up in a tower until just last year, and while I discovered my birth parents, the mother who raised me died, and I have been struggling with a bit of, uh, depression and a whole lot of culture shock, shall we say."

Snow raised her eyebrows at this. Depression was not exactly a term she would have associated with the bright, bubbling wisp of a girl that sat before her, but then again, Snow had endured years of unhappiness without rousing even a hint of suspicion, even from her closest friends. Opening her notebook, she carefully printed Rapunzel's name –after verifying the spelling with Belle- and wrote below it, "brave."

"Let's work our way clockwise now." Belle suggested, and everyone turned to the girl who sat next to Rapunzel.

"Uh, hi. I'm Nani Pelekai." She introduced herself slowly, giving a half-hearted wave. "I am twenty-four. I live with my little sister, Lilo in Hawaii-D where I man a surfboard rental shack. I'm here because…" she rubbed her temples self-consciously, "um, because my house was attacked by a bunch of, you know, space aliens, and now, just to let my sister keep her dog, I have to have a bunch of them visit, like, _all_ the time. Not to mention, on top of raising my sister because our parents died, I also have to support two more aliens who can neither get nor keep jobs and cannot leave our planet because they were banished here all on account of my sister's dog. It gets… stressful… sometimes… and according to the social worker who keeps tabs on our family, I have to get help or lose custody of my sister." She finished her explanation and crossed her arms, an unconvincing picture on nonchalance.

Scribbling her name into the notebook, Snow wrote for her, "Self-sacrificing."

Next, a tall, thin woman began to speak. "As most of you know, I'm Megara, but please call me Meg." She crossed her legs and leaned against the back of her chair. "I don't really have any hobbies, so let me just cut right to the chase: I traded my soul to Hades for the life of my boyfriend, who promptly dumped me afterwards for some skanky blonde with a big butt. Later, I met a really great guy who actually bargained with Hades and got my soul back, but after a little while, I guess I just got sort of sick of the whole 'hero' stigma around him, and I couldn't take it anymore. I just left." She glanced quickly around the room. "And for those who know the story, _yes_, I _do_ know he gave up his immortality to spend his life with me –I was there. So, basically, I guess I did the same thing to him that my ex did to me, but oh well. What is done is done, and Hurc is happy now with some other girl he met. About two years ago. At Princess Aurora's homecoming/16th birthday. They are living together now. Have a cat. Share a Facebook account, even." She shrugged flippantly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Either way, he won't be coming back to me. So, basically, I suppose I am super hung up on my exes and have severe personality and relationship issues. I am a live-in at the BM on my own accord like Rapunzel over there, but I seriously doubt it will fix me at all. Nothing really can."

"We are all glad that you came here, Meg." Belle assured her. "There are so many wonderful traits about you that we love!"

"Yeah, okay." Meg rolled her eyes as Snow wrote into her notebook, "Independent."

Snow recognized the next girl as Princess Aurora. She shared a similar story of being awoken from a deep sleep by true love's kiss, but unlike Snow, Aurora rarely showed up in the news or tabloids. Snow supposed she was just a private person. She waited for her to speak, but Aurora made no move to do so.

"This," Belle said, "is our dear friend Briar Rose." At Snow's obvious confusion, she explained, "Rose's christened is Aurora, as you know, but she was raised under a different name -which she prefers. Rose, why don't you explain why you stay at Butterfly Manor?"

Briar Rose began singing quickly with her hands, and Belle translated for her. "Good to meet you! My name is Briar Rose. I am twenty-five years old and to be married next month to my true love, Prince Phillip. I greatly enjoy dancing, and I used to sing, but I lost my voice a little while ago, and since then I have learned to sign."

Belle put up a hand and turned to Snow. "Rose has what is known as a 'Conversion Disorder.' After a traumatic experience, sometimes a person will experience symptoms of a physical disability which is actually controlled by their brain refusing to let them function in that area. For Rose, it is speech."

Rose nodded, and Belle went back to speaking for her signs. "The last time I spoke, I was heartbroken and shocked when my aunts broke the news to me when I was sixteen that my parents were alive and I was a princess. They forced me to leave behind the man with whom I was in love and follow them to the castle. There, I was tricked by Maleficent, an old enemy of my royal family, to touch a cursed spindle, and I fell into a poisoned sleep. When I awakened, the boy I had fallen in love with was actually the price I was destined to marry, which greatly relieved me. Of course I love my parents, but sometimes I have trouble forgiving them for sending me away."

Snow scribed her name onto the sheet in her notebook with the others and labeled her, "gentle."

Belle cleared her throat. "I, of course, am Belle. I am a certified life-coach and voluntarily lead this class. I love to read books, and I spend most of my time at home in the library. I am married to a man named Adam who used to be a prince before he fell victim to a sorceress' spell after he expressed a pattern of incivility and conceit. He was transformed into a beast, but together we discovered the goodness in his heart, and my declaration of love broke the spell, returning him to his human body. He is what inspired me to help others find their way when their troubles overwhelm them."

Snow wrote down Belle's name and the word, "forgiving."

When she looked back up, Snow realized that the others were waiting on her to speak, pens positioned readily over their notebooks. She swallowed once and began quietly, "My name is Snow Charmi-White. My name Snow White. I am twenty-six, and I enjoy strolls through the woods as well as baking. I… um… I was encouraged to come here by a judge after I…" she glanced around the room. Surely they had already heard the tale. She straightened her shoulders and plunged ahead. "I attacked my husband during an argument after I found him in his bedroom with a scullery maid." A tear threatened to escape her right eye, but she stubbornly blinked it away. "After our first two years of marriage, our love began to fall apart. He kissed me awake from a sleeping curse when I was fourteen, and we married a year later. Perhaps we were just too young. I tried to be a good wife and princess, but the duties were difficult and exhausting. Leonard was never satisfied with me. He used to encourage me to try to do better, but the encouragement quickly evolved into chastisement, and from there it was just degrading. I hid my feelings for so many years… I suppose I had a lot of pent up anger, so it was only a matter of time before it all came bursting out. I never bore him any children, I fussed more over the cleanliness of our castle than the matters of the state, and I did not have the figure the modern ladies have. There was so much social pressure to be the fairest of them all, the living breathing icon of true love, that I stayed silent about my dissatisfaction with Leonard. I used to feel sorry for myself, but then I began to channel my displeasure over to him. I was furious that he treated me the way he did. When at last I found him with the maid… well, it hurt my feelings immensely, and of course I did react in jealousy and anger, but really… I think I felt a strange surge of relief. It was a way out. I could escape at last." Snow picked at her skirt, waiting for her turn to pass.

Belle touched her gently on the hand. "Thank you for sharing, Snow. Welcome to the group. You are no different than everyone else here. We all have our problems and our pasts, but we will overcome them together."

Snow nodded noncommittally and was startled by another hand on her arm.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't you worry 'bout an itsy bitsy thing!" grinned the only other lady in the room who had dressed up for the occasion –and moreso than Snow! Her dress was bursting with trounces, flounces, and frills! "I know just what you mean 'bout bein' unhappy with the perfect man! Men aren't _really_ perfect, honey pie, you know that now. You see, I… well, I am gettin' ahead of myself, aren't I? Let me begin properly: It is a fine pleasure to meet you, Snow White. My name is Charlotte La Bouff! I love dressin' up and dancin' and teasin' and goin' to parties! I go to all the social events, of course, and I must say I always throw the biggest and bestest of the season! My name and the word "party" is synonymous! Surely you can agree." She batted her eyes, waiting for Snow's affirmation.

"Well," Snow said slowly, "I must be honest, and I hope you'll forgive me, but I haven't had the pleasure of hearing of you until now."

Charlotte shrugged exaggeratedly and blew a strand of golden hair out of her face. "Well. I s'pose I can understand that, seein' as I did not actually have my _own_ story. See, I participated in Tiana's romance –I know you must be familiar with my dear friend, Tiana! She is such a doll, and a fabulous cook! I love her to pieces! Anyway, what happened to me and the reason I am here is because I had such a dastardly confusin' time! I always knew that I was simply destined to fall in love with and marry a rich and handsome prince –it was clear to me from the moment I was _born! _Well, some hooligan thought it was a dandy idea to disguise himself as the visitin' Prince Naveen, and he was attached to me every second from mornin' 'til night every day through Marti Gras! He proposed to me and everythin', and we was gonna say our vows right in the middle of the big parade! However, right when it was time to say I do, I came to find out that the _real _Prince Naveen had been turned into a _frog _along with my dear friend Tiana! Well, I was Mardi Gras princess, of course, so they needed me to kiss his little froggy lips to make them both people again, and then he would marry me for real. Now, I was in love with Prince Naveen, had been since before I even heard of him, but while we were talkin' I realized that Prince Naveen and Tiana had fallen in love durin' all their adventures, so I knew I simply could not break my poor dear friend Tiana's heart! I agreed to kiss Prince Naveen and make him human again, but only if he married Tiana because they belonged together. It was all settled, but the clock struck just before, and I kissed him again and again, but since Marti Gras was over, me bein' a princess was over, so it just didn't work. Well, later, they got married and kissed, and well, what do you know, that made them both human after all seein' as Tiana became a princess when she married Prince Naveen. I was never happier than I was when they renewed their vows in town in front of everybody, but when they up and lived happily ever after, I was left after all that excitement with nothin' to show for it, all that courtin' and datin' I did with the fake Prince Naveen accountin' to nothing, after all. That dressed up faker ruined my whole life, I tell you! I may never find love, and lordy knows I deserve it!" She pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose loudly. "My heart was toyed with 'til it broke, and it'll never mend, not 'til some fine fellow up and comes to sweep me off my feet even better'n the first time!"

As Charlotte continued to sob and those around her sighed and patted her shoulders as encouragingly as they could, Snow took that time to return to her notebook. She wondered for several minutes what to write next to Charlotte's name. At last, she put down, "expressive." After another moment of thought, she added, "good friend."

When at last Charlotte's laments were quieted, a redhead sitting next to her began talking. "My name is Ariel, and I am twenty-one. I love swimming, but my passion is to sing. My father is King Triton of the Merpeople. I am married to Prince Eric, and we live in a palace by the sea. In fact, I may as well say this now; I just discovered that Eric and I are expecting our first baby!"

A chorus of joyous exclamations erupted around the circle, and Ariel beamed proudly.

"No kidding!" Meg exclaimed.

"How far along are you?" Belle asked.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Charlotte squealed.

"When are you due?" Rapunzel wondered.

Ariel waved off anymore questions, but she replied, "I am about twelve weeks along now, and the little one should be here in late spring."

"_But is it a boy or a girl?" _Charlotte insisted.

Ariel laughed. "I don't know yet. I have to wait a few weeks before we find out."

"Awwwww." Charlotte groaned, pouting.

"Congratulations, Ariel." Belle clasped her hands together gladly. "This is such good news!"

"Thank you very much." Ariel touched her belly fondly. "I suppose I should continue my introduction, huh?"

"Go ahead." Belle instructed.

Ariel, still smiling sweetly, continued, "I was born and raised a mermaid. When my music-loving mother was killed by pirates, my Father put a prohibition on both music and coming to the surface of the water. Everyone suffered when music was banned. It was a long time before we could convince him that music should be allowed –mother would have wanted it. When I became a teenager, music was celebrated fondly, and my father himself hosted many concerts and events of the like in the palace. However, the law that we must never go near the surface remained. Most of the merfolk were satisfied with the law because of the rumors that the humans would kill and eat us like fish were harrowing. I, however, disobeyed that rule regularly. I saved the life of Prince Eric during a storm, and I fell in love with him right away. My father was furious and forbade me from seeing him. Instead of speaking to him civilly about it, I turned to a sea witch, Ursula, and signed a contract that said if I, as a mute human, convinced Eric to kiss me within three days, I would remain a human forever. If I failed, though, she would own and disfigure my body to be saved and used for magical experimentation. I was very close to achieving my goal, but Ursula tricked me. It was her plan all along, and I had been fool enough to fall for it. Just as she was transforming me into one of her ghouls, my father arrived to save me. He took my place, and she disfigured him and let me go. I was… horrified. Ursula stole my father's trident and used it against the people of the sea, but Eric rammed a ship into her gut and killed her, setting free to all of her captives. My father forgave me right away, and he used his trident to give me legs and permission to marry Eric. The sea and Eric's kingdom have been allied ever since. I, however, have been on a long journey of self-forgiveness. It took me a long time to let go if the guilt I kept over myself for disrespecting my father and putting my entire people at risk. Now, I think I am finally finding peace with my past and with myself."

Snow did not even realize what word she had written next to Ariel's name until she stared at it long and hard. "Wise."

Belle gathered everyone's notebooks into her bag and dismissed the session, wishing everyone a delightful week. As Snow left the room and bade the others goodnight, she could not get out of her mind what she had written about Ariel. Wise… According to her introduction tonight, Ariel thought herself to have been a fool, and for a few crucial moments in her youth, she certainly had been. Now, however, Ariel had found what she claimed to be peace. She was no longer warring with herself, and she seemed to be more introspective than the younger self she had described. Now she was pregnant –a mother-to-be! Her life was continuing with joy despite her crooked past.

The assessment ignited a small ember of hope for Snow. If Ariel could go through that kind of shame and come out on top, then maybe she could too. She had a future ahead of her. Surely she could endure the rough waters for just a little longer, and soon she would be standing bravely on her own two feet again. A smile crept onto her face as she opened the door to her room and stepped inside.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The briny wind blowing off the ocean seemed to invigorate the sailors around me, but after surfing the crest of a solar flare and racing between the gravity fields of Xalon 3, a little salt and surf was no competition. Ignoring the lumbering pirates who had accompanied me onshore, I followed a fading gravel footpath that led to a dilapidated old building that sat precariously close to the edge of a cliff. I am no architect, but something about the place made me think the whole thing would one day topple into the sea.

I was met at the door by a thin, slouching woman with tired eyes. Her thin wispy hair was tucked up behind her head with barrettes. Studying her face with its sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, and thin lips, I initially would have pinned her age to be in her late sixties, but a second look made me think she was younger than she first appeared. She looked at me warily and waited for me to introduce myself.

"Hello, I'm Jim Hawkins." I said, extending my hand. She pinched my fingers briefly with the tips of hers and allowed me to continue. "Are you Mrs. Anita Radcliffe?"

"How do you do?" she asked in reply, nodding affirmatively.

"Doing… well. Yourself?" I glanced at the wood carved sign above the doorway that read, 'The Safe Spot.'

"Fine." She said.

I cleared my throat. "I'm here because I wanted to ask some things about a boy you may house here."

Mrs. Radcliffe straightened her posture and raised her chin. "What kind of things?"

I could feel the eyes of Hook and his cohorts boring into my back from where they waited up the road out of sight, and it appeared that Mrs. Radcliffe still had just enough spark left in hers to burn a hole in my head. I swallowed once and shrugged. "Just… questions. I, um… how long have you been running this home for boys?"

"What questions –and which boy?" Mrs. Radcliffe demanded.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Well, you see, I need to speak with a boy named Peter P-"

"Pan." She finished for me with a sight. "I should have known."

She opened the door wider, and, surprised, I followed her inside. "Peter was with us once, but you will not find him here any longer. I can only handle so much on my own, you know. He grew up without parents, and he has had such a difficult life for a child. I tried my best, but… now he is gone. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone showed up on my doorstep about him."

I nodded, stepping into the ideal role she unknowingly had given me. "Yes, you see, I am a lawyer assigned to his case. I just need to find him since he has disappeared."

"What kind of trouble has he made for himself?" Mrs. Radcliffe sighed, leading me to a wooden chair in a cramped dining room.

"Actually," I lied, glancing around the aged but clean interior of the children's home, "I cannot tell you the details until after the court hearing."

"I understand." Mrs. Radcliffe settled into a chair next to mine, and a stout very elderly woman hobbled into the dining room through a doorway that apparently led into the kitchen. "Ah, Nanny Cook, if luncheon is ready, would you call the children down to eat?"

"Yes, Ma'am." The little woman said, and she pulled a chord by the wall. Chiming bells could be heard above the ceiling, and soon a soft scuffle of feet overhead.

"We can talk while we eat, if you don't mind." Mrs. Radcliffe explained. "I keep the children here on proper schedules, after all."

"You must be fond of children to keep this place running by yourself." I commented.

Mrs. Radcliffe smiled sadly. "Roger and I were never able to have any of our own, but if I am honest, we did not mind much. Oh, it would have been nice to have a little one about, but we were kept quite busy. I do not think I would have had the time or energy back then.

"You see, The Safe Spot was originally a dog foundation –Dalmatians, precisely. We started with one hundred and one of them here. We provided food and shelter until we could find homes for the animals. As the original Dalmatians were adopted, we took in other breeds and strays. We were usually overrun with dogs!

"When Roger died, however, I could hardly keep up with them. I was not strong enough to handle some of the stronger and wilder strays, and Nanny was certainly not built for the job either. So, I was forced to get rid of the dogs. I adopted out what I could, but the rest…

"In any case, I still had a heart to nurture something, and I saw so many homeless children running around, abandoned after their stories were finished. I took out a loan and acquired realm funding, and here I am now, surrounded by children. I never imagined myself to be here, but I do admit it readily that I love them very much." She gave a warm smile to the children who now walked single file down a staircase and took their seats at the table.

I glanced at the boys and girls who sat obediently in their places making agreeable conversation as the older ones brought out food from the kitchen to pass around to the others. They held the quiet, reserved aura of orphans, but rosy cheeks and easy smiles revealed a loving upbringing by their mistress.

"It looks like you're doing a good job." I said, scooting my chair over so a boy could climb into the one next to me.

"Hm, for some." Mrs. Radcliffe pursed her lips and accepted a plate from one of the children. "Others… like Peter… well, he needed help I could not give him."

"So he was sent elsewhere." I presumed.

"He bounced from place to place." Mrs. Radcliffe continued. "He came back here on a few occasions, but the poor boy never lasted. He was abandoned by his parents, you know. He abhors adults. He grew up in a place called Neverland, and he had some experiences there with adults that made his aversion even more severe."

"I gather you and he never bonded." I thanked a girl who handed me a humble serving of rice and beans.

She shook her head. "I firstly was strict with him, but he balked completely to that. Peter would never accept correction of any sort. I also tried being extra gentle and nurturing with Peter like I would one of the little ones, but he complained that I was acting too much like a mother, and he refused to participate in any activities, even meals, over which I presided. Like I said, he hates adults and has a particular resilience against the idea of parents."

"That was a problem for you?" I asked.

"I worried about him, yes, but I would never let him leave this place over something like that." Mrs. Radcliffe's posture straightened again, and I leaned back in my chair, realizing that I had been leaning forward quite dramatically.

"I'm sorry; I meant nothing by it." I picked at a thread in the seam of my pants.

"It's alright, of course." Mrs. Radcliffe waited for Nanny and the rest of the children to be seated. "Everyone, let's say grace. Mr. Hawkins, will you do us the honor?"

"Uh…" I froze for a moment, but it would not be the first time I was put on the spot to pray at the dinner table. Mom occasionally made me do it.

Mom… who had that thing in her neck… what I had to do to get it out… and here I was about to pray over dinner? Geez.

"Mr. Hawkins?" Mrs. Radcliffe opened one eye from where she was already bowing her head. The children sat humbly waiting with their hands folded before them. "Is something troubling you?"

"No, no." I grunted, clearing my throat. "I, uh, I'll get right to it." I paused to restart my breathing. Just had push through this. "Dear God… thank you for this meal… Amen."

"Amen." Mrs. Radcliffe echoed properly, and the table became alive with activity as the orphans began a bright chatter and peppered laughter.

"Mrs. Radcliffe, where is Peter Pan now?" I asked after letting her taste her food. I was becoming weary of hearing about the boy's troubled past. His history with abandonment was all too familiar, and I did not have room for pity in my heart. I had to remember that he was probably hundreds of years old and had the blood of many men on his hands. Technically… he was not even a child. Technically.

"I'm not sure." She admitted. "He was taken and moved around so many times, I lost track after a while where he was going when."

"What places had he been taken to in the past?" I encouraged her.

"Oh, a few one-on-one foster homes, a juvenile work camp at one point…" she pondered. "The work camp was as useless as I suspected it would be; the instructors there were much too strict for a boy of his spirits. He was removed and had to spend a bit of time in jail instead. He did best with the foster homes if there were no other kids, but he drove the foster parents mad, and when they could not keep him, he felt abandoned all over again. He was an anarchist if there ever was one! He could convince an entire school of children to turn against their parents and teachers in a matter of hours.

"It was worse when he was here. He was not the only child brought from Neverland to The Safe Spot, and he called these other boys his men. They obeyed his every word, and he led them all into a lot of trouble quite frequently. This place was an out of control wreck when he was here, and, at last, I had no choice but to become one of the many to refuse his return."

I grimaced. "You have no way, then, to keep track of his whereabouts after he left this place."

"I am afraid not." Mrs. Radcliffe confessed. "However, he is still a minor, so the realm ought to still keep some sort of tab on him."

"The research I have already done led me here." I shook my head. "Whatever other information there may be is hidden."

"Come to think of it…" Mrs. Radcliffe tapped her chin lightly.

"What's that?" I wondered.

"Sometimes, for extremely troubled people, there are off-the-public-record havens where they can find refuge. Often, a celebrity will go to one of these for rehab in privacy, other times a person will go to protect themselves from people they think might be harmful to them." Mrs. Radcliffe looked at me closely. "Can I safely assume that you mean no harm to Peter?"

"Peter is safe with me." I felt the blood boil into my face, and I have no idea what my expression was when I answered, but it must have passed her test because she went on. She thought I looked like a good kind of a guy. I, on the other hand, felt like a traitor. It was as if Peter Pan's blood was already smeared across my hands.

"Well," she said, "there is only one off-the-public-record recuperation place in this realm that I know of, and it is fairly new –it has been open for just a few years, and it is privately owned. You may have heard of it –Butterfly Manor."

An image of skin as white as snow and lips as red as blood flashed in my mind, and I blinked it quickly out of my head. "Yes, I am acquainted with the place. I thought it was an adult-only facility."

"No, behind the grounds is a smaller building which caters directly to kids who have been unsuccessful integrating with a family. I have no idea whether Peter himself may be there, but there is a possibility." She said.

I finished my food and pushed my plate away from me. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Radcliffe. May I help you clear up?"

My hostess patted her mouth with her napkin and stood with me. "No, thank you, Mr. Hawkins. The children and I will take care of it as usual. I hope you have luck in your endeavor. Send my love to Peter when you find him, though I doubt he will take it."

"I, uh… yes ma'am." I nodded quickly and ducked out the door as she said goodbye.

The sun was shining much too brightly as I made it back to Hook and hid gang. The sea captain leered at me as I stepped into the row boat to paddle is back to his ship. "Well, did ye find him?"

"He isn't here, but I might know where he is now." I muttered, and we pushed off. "It's a place inland called Butterfly Manor."

"Then you are coming along with me until I finally lay me own eyes on his fowl countenance!" Hook declared, waving his namesake in the air above his head.

"Trust me…" I said, thinking again of the brown-eyed beauty I had left there not very long ago, "I wouldn't let you go alone."


End file.
